Beyond the Blue Girl

by H K Belvedere

  Chapter 5

  “You’re going to learn how to read people very quickly in this line of work, babe,” said Amanda. Amanda was a prostitute/stripper who worked in the same massage parlour as Katie, now nineteen years old. Amanda was an attractive but plump brunette with huge breasts and nice hazel brown eyes. She had dark skin and very sleek dark hair and was very petite – she also had several tattoos all over her body.

  Katie had finally run away from home just after she turned eighteen. Things were not getting better at home and her dad was starting to force her to perform sex acts on him with her mother watching to ‘learn some new tricks in their group therapy session’ as he put it. She could not take it anymore. She managed to accumulate enough money working at a dirty brothel in Glasgow ran by a shady pimp who called himself ‘The Owl’ (he claimed to be able to see in the dark). Katie was sleeping with ‘The Owl’ after he met her selling her body on the streets of Glasgow city centre one night. He took her in and let her work in his brothel and while working there, she saved enough money to purchase a one-way train ticket to London. She had no real plan or anywhere to stay but she went during the Notting hill carnival and thought as there would be a lot of young friendly people on the streets in good spirits, she could maybe meet some friends down there and stay at least for a little while. She was also willing to model, strip and prostitute herself to gain funds in the meantime. She had to escape Scotland regardless. Her traumatic childhood and grim surroundings had worn her out to the point where she just needed a change of scenery far away from home.

  Things never went smoothly on her arrival in London. She bounced around off her face on booze and drugs for several months, her good looks ensured she could always obtain male attention and she floated around London from man to man (mostly scumbags) who used and abused her just like her father and previous boyfriends in her past. She ended up homeless at one point for a few weeks near the end of the summer, she slept under a bridge. Luckily, she managed to find work in another brothel and the pimp who ran it allowed her to stay there as she was very attractive and could ensure more profits for his illicit business venture.

  Katie then got involved with a half-baked gangster from Shepherd’s bush in West London. He sold cocaine and other drugs and was a good bit older than Katie; he was around forty-six when they met in Camden Town at a pub one Sunday evening. She was playing him as he was not very attractive but he had a house, she could live in for free rather than the brothel all the time and access to all the drugs she wanted. She stayed with this guy for a few months before getting bored with him. The chap was named Marvin and he was getting a bit too attached to the pretty, younger girl; he had managed to scoop up and was constantly declaring his love for Katie. She found this a major turn off and saw him as weak. She ended up robbing him of a few thousand pounds and left him one day, while he was lying on his couch drunk after they had a massive argument as he was convinced she was cheating on him with several other men – which of course she was, as she worked in a brothel. She acted like a parasite on Marvin and sucked him of all his emotional energy and resources before she left him mentally shattered, ruined financially and completely heartbroken. Katie at this point never cared – her past experiences had stripped her of most of her empathy and decency – she was out to get as much as she could for herself and at the expense of others, if need be. An attractive female with no empathy or morals is a dangerous creature. But not as dangerous as some super manipulative men as Katie later would find out.

  After she left Marvin she used the funds she stole from him to get herself a private let flat in a semi decent area, she had enough for a deposit and some left over to decorate the flat. She also had some modelling work lined up in the coming weeks, which was going to be paying a fairly decent amount, plus she was still working at the brothel, her friend Amanda who worked there also was sharing the flat with her which halved the expenses. They got on well enough but tended to be a bad influence on each other and they both consumed lots of drinks and drugs together – this is where most of Katie’s income went at the present moment. Straight up her nose. She had a terrible cocaine habit – she justified it by claiming she needed it to cope with her job in the brothel as it gave her confidence along with large amounts of alcohol.

  One Tuesday evening, Katie was on her phone to a photographer named Simon, organising a modelling photoshoot. Simon sounded nice and polite, definitely a more respectable figure than she was used to dealing with previously. She travelled to Simon’s studio in South London the next day; she was dressed in a green tracksuit as Simon told her, his studio had plenty of nice outfits she could change into for the photoshoot. Despite looking a bit common, Katie looked good in the bright green tracksuit, it made her blonde hair stand out more. She really was gorgeous. Her image was her greatest asset. She entered the studio and a very sharply dressed Simon welcomed her in. He had an expensive suit on and looked very handsome, tall, broad shoulders, a very well-groomed gentleman with nice styled blond hair.

  He said to Katie, “Thanks for coming in a tracksuit; sometimes I wear a tracksuit when I’m at home so I don’t need to hide who I really am.”

  Katie wondered what the hell that meant – it was a very profound statement to say the least. They chatted for a bit before Katie changed into one of the outfits he had in his very well kitted out and furnished studio. She opted for a skimpy female boxers outfit and some gloves do to a sort of kinky female boxer shoot, she looked really good in the outfit and Simon was very happy with some of the images he captured of her.

  He said to her as he was taking several photos from all angles, “You know a good model does a lot more than just look pretty and pose, a good model knows along with the help of the photographer how to create a good image. It’s a fine art form Katie, don’t let anybody ever tell you otherwise. Also I need to make a confession.”

  “What’s that,” said Katie.

  “You have the most beautiful arse I have ever seen on a female – so peachy and plump, its amazing Katie!”

  Of course Katie had been complemented on her rear end before but still she took the ego boosting comment regardless! Can you feed a pretty girls ego enough?

  They spent around four hours taking pictures and chatting away. They got on very well and had good chemistry. Katie was very attracted to Simon and the feeling was mutual. The sexual tension was building up but Simon was very professional and never made a move, even though he knew for a fact Katie was aroused by his presence, he gave off a confident swag and was clearly a man who had his life together. Combined with his good looks, most women would be interested in a guy like Simon. He was a gentleman and he had very good manners and spoke politely, which made him even more appealing – especially in modern times as men like him with good character traits are becoming a lot rarer than before. Katie had never really met a man like him before. He had no ring on his finger so he appeared not to be married and he never mentioned he had a partner or girlfriend. Maybe he is gay, Katie thought. Never seemed that way but who knows these days.

  They finished up the shoot and Simon told Katie that he would get the images edited and sent over to her. He also gave her £300 for the shoot, which was very nice of him. He was at face value – an honest and upstanding gentleman. They agreed to keep in touch and possibly meet up again for another photoshoot in the future. As they walked out the studio, Simon got into his black BMW M6. It was a very sporty and expensive looking car. He wished Katie well and drove off into the busy London traffic. Katie headed towards the train station and made her way back to her flat. The train was packed and it was very warm. A group of teenage boys were stood up all talking loudly to one another. Katie overheard them saying, “Wow check dat ting, fam. She’s bare hot, though.”

  She kind of understood London rude boy slang but she just ignored the silly boys. They were far too immature for her and served no purpose to her at all – other than to boost her ego that little bit more. She could not stop thinking about Simon the
whole journey back to her flat. She looked forward to going home to tell Amanda about him. Katie got off the train and walked the short distance home. As she was walking along her street, she noticed this huge scaffolding with several workmen in hi-vis jackets grafting away on the building it was erected around and could hear lots of banging and construction related noises. One of the men cat called her and said, “Get your rat out, love!” His colleagues all laughed hysterically like silly, little school boys in a playground. Katie just ignored them and kept walking. She was used to this sort of attention. It was water off a duck’s back to her at this point. She entered her flat and was glad to be home and out of the hot sun outside.

  Chapter 6

  “Oh my fucking God, he is actually stunning, babe,” Katie said to Amanda.

  “Yeah, I have to agree he looks well hot, what age is he, Katie?”

  “Not actually sure, maybe between 30 or 40. He is so sexy, I was struggling to keep my eyes off him.” Katie was telling her flatmate and work colleague Amanda about Simon, the photographer, she had met earlier that day.

  It was around ten p.m. at night. The girls were not working tonight so decided to have a girl’s night in. They had lots of drugs and alcohol. After a few glasses of wine with some lines of highly cut cocaine, Amanda said to Katie, “Did I ever tell you about that guy who pissed on me and made me wear a collar and leash?”

  Katie gasped slightly – she had done and heard some messed up things but had never went to those extremes or heard of anybody who did. “Eh, no, you never mentioned that. Do go on.”

  “OK, I was working for this madam in Bolton a few years ago, she had an older husband named Henry; he was a proper slimy, greasy, dirty old man. He was short, fat and ugly and always wore way too much aftershave – but he was very wealthy, he owned several businesses. He always had a thing for me and would get creepy around me and touch me up whenever he was at the brothel. Anyways, I got caught stealing money from the madam one time and she also caught me smoking weed in the building beforehand, which was strictly prohibited. She was really angry and wanted to sack me but I begged and pleaded with her to reconsider. She said OK but only on the condition I would be her husband’s no-limit whore for a full weekend while she watched and joined in.”

  “Fucking hell – what did they make you do,” Said Katie.

  "Well I was to turn up at their house at 8 p.m. on a Friday evening and was not free to leave until Sunday evening at 8 p.m. So I got ready and made my way over to their house.

  "I was really nervous as I approached the house and was shaking a bit walking up their long mono blocked runway, where their two fancy cars were parked up – one black Audi A7 and one White BMW M3. I walked towards the door slowly and rang the doorbell with my very nervous and unsteady hand. After a few seconds, I saw a light coming on through the small window just next to the door. The door opened slowly, the madam greeted me with a very quiet but reassuring grin. ‘Come in my dear – make yourself at home and have a fag and I will get you a drink’, I was sat in their living room with her and her creepy husband Henry eyeing me up and down while rubbing his penis underneath his trousers – I could tell it was a very large penis due to the size of the bulge. I thought dear God this is going to be brutal that man is a twisted pervert with a huge member – God knows how I’m going to manage this! They gave me a few vodkas and allowed me to smoke a few more cigarettes before I had to submit my body to them and be their personal whore for almost three days. I was really shitting myself but also quite excited at the same time. I knew it was wrong but I had no choice in the matter now!

  "The madam and her husband then stood up, the whole atmosphere got a lot more tense and serious in a heartbeat – they told me to strip and place my clothes in the corner of the room in a neat pile. They then ordered me to go on my knees and the madam put a blind fold on me. She told me they were going to treat me like a dirty, little, dishonest pig and make me pay for being a lowlife thief. The blindfold went on tight enough so I could not see a thing. The madam then roared, ‘OPEN YOUR FUCKING MOUTH AND STICK YOUR PIG TONGUE OUT, WHORE’, which I did straightaway with no hesitation, then I felt a rather hard and large warm object slapping my face – it was Henry’s giant manhood! He rammed into my mouth and started fucking my face hard. The madam roared again, ‘GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK BEFORE I TIE THEM BEHIND YOUR FUCKING BACK, YOU PIECE OF SHIT SLUT’. Henry then grabbed the back of my head and started really thrusting his giant knob in and out my mouth at rapid speed – making me gag and choke and spurt out all sorts of filthy noises. I must have sounded like an animal and they were treating me like an animal, so it made sense in a perverted and sick way.

  “Bluh, bluh, bluh” is the only way I can describe the grotesque sound. He kept fucking my face and I’m not going to lie, my fanny was dripping wet at this point, they were being so mean and dominant over me it was hard not to get turned on! I felt myself puke up a little bit, ‘Oh-uh said the madam, somebody needs to clean up their fucking mess!’ Yes they really made me lick my own vomit from Henry’s huge penis – it was absolute vile but I can’t lie it was making me even more horny! He stopped fucking my face for a while and let me breath normally again for a moment while one of them began to start slapping my tits very hard and giving me more verbal abuse, ‘dirty, little, thieving, lowlife, pig whore, how fucking dare you steal money from us, after all we have fucking done for you! LIE ON THE FUCKING FLOOR ON YOUR BACK AND STICK YOUR TONGUE OUT’ – I lied down on the floor with my tongue hanging out – still soaking wet of course – the madam said, ‘now you’re going to lick whatever I put on your tongue’, I said OK. Madam delivered a huge slap to the tit, ‘OK what? Address me as mistress and my husband as master – understood piggy?’ ‘Yes, Mistress’, I then felt something coming down towards my tongue. I was not sure what it was at first then I got a whiff of what can only be described as shit. It was an arsehole – it was Henry’s dirty, sweaty, man arsehole. ‘Get your fucking tongue in there, you filthy pig,’ said Henry. Yes, Master, I replied as I started to tongue fuck his anus. I have never licked an arsehole before but I can assure you it tastes – well like an arsehole, funnily enough. He made me lick it for a good while then the madam slapped, kicked and punched my body while giving me horrible degrading verbal abuse – she said they were going to use me as a urinal at some point and make me crawl around like a dog, while I served them food.

  She also told me they were going to have friends over and I would have to serve them all dinner and crawl around under the dinner table and suck all their toes and genitals then service them all later at the same time, while I was restrained in their make shift dungeon room. I knew it was going to be a long weekend but I won’t pretend that I was not very aroused by the whole filthy experience and I realised my own greed and stupidity landed me here in the first place, so I only had myself to blame. They used me in all sorts of cruel and nasty ways and introduced me to humiliation and pain – two kinky sex methods, which I had never experienced before. It made me realise that normal sex, albeit very good and pleasurable, was just not the same as this – I think some kind of special adrenaline or something is realised during that type of sexual activity, before that I had never been so aroused in my life – it was meant to be a punishment for stealing but I ended up enjoying the whole sordid weekend!

  “It was now Saturday morning. I was woken by the madam screaming, ‘fuck-pig, get up I’m letting you out for a pee’. Yes, they actually made me crawl out the back garden and urinate like a dog against a tree – you know with one leg up.”

  “Jesus Christ,” said a now visibly shocked Katie as she poured them another glass of wine. “So what did they do to you next?” she asked Amanda.

  "Well they took turns fucking me – Henry with his huge cock and the madam with her huge strap-on cock – they both at one point stuck them in my vagina at the same time making me squeal like a rabid dog that had just been hit by a bus! They tried to do the same to my asshole but it was s
imply too tight! They also made me clean their whole house naked while they kicked, punched and spat on me while giving me more verbal and degrading abuse. It was a profound weekend to say the least.

  "Then later on Saturday evening, they had a dinner party and eight of their friends came over – it was four couples one male and one female each,, so eight in total and I was used as a servant to serve them all food drink and then after the meal finished, I had to serve them all orally until they climaxed – they all came in a bowl which had the leftovers of everybody’s dinner and desert plus their bodily fluids added in at the end. This was my dinner, which I was made to eat. Then I was chained to a rail in the bathroom and used as a urinal by them all; anytime somebody needed the toilet, they would enter the bathroom and pee on my face and body while giving me verbal abuse – a few of the men even made me suck their semi erect cocks before, during and after they urinated… The very sight of me chained to a rail on my knees was enough to make them erect and excited. Again it sounds horrific, Katie, but I was really turned on most the time – some of the beatings were not so nice but it felt good not to have any control and just submit 100% to these nasty, dominant, heartless people. Come Sunday evening, I was so drained mentally and physically – I lost count of the amount of times I came and I had bruises and cuts all over me. I took, God knows, how much spunk inside my holes and mouth and I had been pissed on more time than an actual public toilet.